how much for your soul?
by Marmg
Summary: Bellamy admires Kane. Kane returns the favor. Inspired by the song Rich Niggaz by J. Cole


_ You got what I want  
I got what you need  
How much for your soul and uh  
How much for your soul and uh_

* * *

"Do you think that could be me one day?"

Bellamy is twelve, bouncing an illegal sister on his knee, and watching on a borrowed projector as Marcus Kane shakes the hand of Chancellor Sydney. Kane is from Factory Station like the Blakes, was on the Guard for seven years, and is now being inducted into The Council as Head of Ark Security. That's what Bellamy wants. Kane is who Bellamy wants to _be_. Someone important, someone respected, someone with enough ration points to feed his family and _himself_.

"Mom?" Bellamy asks. Aurora is sitting to the right of him on their raggedy, tattered couch. Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, and she stares at Kane's projection with a furrow in her brow and a frown on her lips. "_Mom._" Bellamy presses.

Aurora blinks, snaps her attention to her son. "Hmm?"

"I asked you if you think that could be me one day."

"If what could be you?" she asks him.

Bellamy huffs, maneuvers his sister off of him, turns his body so that it's completely facing his mother. His eyes dart to the Induction Ceremony projected on their wall before he says "Kane. Head of Security. Do you think that could be me?"

Aurora's arms droop. Her hands fall into her lap. "Why do you want to be like _Kane_?" she asks.

Bellamy's inquiry has deflated his mother in a way he was not expecting, and he feels guilty for a reason he's not sure of when he answers her question. "Because – because I wanna do that," Bellamy tells her. "I wanna arrest the bad guys, and then I wanna be the person who gives orders to the people who arrest the bad guys, and I... I wanna do something. I wanna do something that matters."

Bellamy realizes he sounds defensive – he sounds that way because he _is_ – and he's ready to spend the rest of the Induction Ceremony quietly arguing with Aurora over it if he has to.

Then she sighs, smiles sadly, reaches out to caress his face. "Sweetheart," she says, her thumb brushing over his cheek, "Marcus Kane _is_ one of the bad guys."

Bellamy remains silent. He freezes beneath Aurora's touch. He regrets saying anything at all because he knows whatever his mother is about to explain to him will surely crush his hopes and tamper his dreams. She's always had an inclination for dismissing childish notions and replacing them with harsh realities.

"Do you know what Kane had to do just to get out of Factory, baby?" Aurora asks.

Bellamy shakes her hand away, shrugs.

"Well, not many people below Mecha Station make it on the Guard without breaking a few laws themselves, if you know what I mean." Aurora eyes him pointedly.

"What if he just worked hard?" Bellamy reasons. "Why do you always have to act like The Council members are evil?"

"Because they _are_, Bellamy. All systems of government are corrupt and only corrupt people are a part of the system. You have to understand that.

"The prerequisites for being on The Council are experience with bribery, lying, cheating, and stealing, and _those four things alone_. Nothing else matters to those people besides power. Nothing else matters to them besides being at the top."

In this moment, Bellamy resents his mother. He resents her for burdening him with a child, for forcing her opinions down his throat, for not allowing him to entertain fanciful dreams. For being _right_.

He sets his jaw and glares at her because there is nothing else he can say, then turns back to the projection on the wall where Chancellor Sydney is making a speech. Bellamy ignores Aurora's hand when it squeezes his shoulder and ignores her tired words when she finally wraps up her sermon. "Kane sold his soul to get where he is now," she says.

Bellamy flares his nostrils.

"How much for _your_ soul?"

There's a beat of silence when Aurora believes she's made her point and won. Bellamy can't help but think she would have made a disgustingly good politician herself. But he also thinks _he_ would have made one hell of a petulant child if he had the chance to be one.

"Do you think that could be me one day?" he asks one last time. His attention remains fixed on the broadcast. He's satisfied with his small defiance but afraid to look his mother in the eye.

Aurora does not answer him. She simply stands up from the couch and walks languidly to her bedroom. Only when Bellamy hears her door shut does Octavia speak up for the first time since the Induction Ceremony began. She grabs Bellamy's face between her hands. She looks him in they eyes. She answers him. "Yes."

* * *

"Did we lose our way?"

Bellamy is twenty-four, watching his sister spar with her boyfriend in the distance, and resting on a makeshift bench with Marcus Kane. Kane, who is the one asking questions this time. Both he and Bellamy are from Factory Station, they have both been on the Guard, and they are both on the ground now, covered in dirt and the memory of blood, the illusions of crowns sitting precariously on their heads.

"Is that a serious question?" Bellamy asks.

Kane shoots him his best exasperated look. Bellamy can't help but smile in return. He never had a father and Kane never had a son, but it's moments like this that make Bellamy wonder what having the former must be like.

Kane sighs, sets his elbows on his knees, clasps his hands in front of him. "Yes, it's a serious question," he says.

Bellamy runs a hand over his face. He has no idea what their _way_ ever was to begin with. Their entire existence has been defined by survival, in the sky and on the ground, and now that they have guaranteed their people's safety for the most part, survival is more of an assurance than a worry and actually _living_ is the main concern.

"Yeah," Bellamy finally answers. "I think we did lose our way."

Kane is quiet. He lets the words sink in, nods solemnly, watches Octavia knock Lincoln to the ground and then burst into laughter.

Bellamy mimics Kane's posture; he leans forward on his arms so the older man can hear him clearly. "But we have a new way now. Is that such a bad thing?"

Kane turns his head towards Bellamy. His expression is neutral, and if it weren't for the brows drawn up his forehead in surprise, Bellamy would think he disagrees with him.

But Kane straightens his back. He claps Bellamy on the shoulder and squeezes like Aurora used to. Bellamy tries to memorize the warmth that fills his chest; he catalogs it with the joy he gets when Octavia flashes him a rare smile and the feeling of Clarke wrapped in his arms and the relief he felt when his mother _finally _told him "your soul is priceless, Bellamy Blake. That's why you _can_ do anything. Even dictate an entire people, if that's what you want."

Which, it turns out, is not what he wants. But the sentiment remains.

"You're good at this, you know," Kane tells him.

Bellamy quirks an eyebrow. "Good at what?"

"At this." Kane gestures around them – to the dirt, to the trees, to the gigantic satellite sitting broken behind them. "At leading. At inspiring. At doing something that _matters_." Bellamy has to look away to hide the embarrassing red that stains his cheeks when Kane continues. "I always wanted to do that."


End file.
